Time of dying
by Athiriel
Summary: Envy has just killed someone again, but this time he stayed. Don't know who the person Envy is with. When I wrote it, I didn't think of any particular person, just some OC. But you're allowed to think that the person is someone else from FMA


**Time of dying.**

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I grabbed your head and knocked it against the wall. Blood started to run down your neck, and you felt unconscious. I stood over you and watched you.

Ooh, the options. What should I do with you? How should you die? Should I stab you through a cracked tree? Should I tear your skin off, leaving you in great pain? Should I scratch you, till you were covered in your own blood? I truly didn't know. There are so many choices.

Oh, oh! You're moving. Already? Heh, well you are a little of a fighter.

I grabbed your shirt and yanked you up to your feet. You could barely stand. I pressed you against the wall of a random house, holding you with a stretched arm. I lifted my other hand, and let it slightly brush over your cheek and you shivered. With a smirk I let my hand drop again.

"You know, it _is_ a little sad that you have to die." I informed you. You just looked at me with cold eyes.

"But Father is starting to question my loyalty, so I must prove that it will always be with him. After all, you humans aren't anything special."

Your cold eyes got filled with anger as you looked at me with narrowed eyes. I could feel you started to struggle under my hand. Heh, what a spirit.

I moved my hand a centimeter up and closed my fingers around your neck. Your eyes widened, and you tried to push away my hand with both of your hands. You was so weak (or maybe I was just too strong) so I barely felt it.

My thoughts went back to the earlier subject. How should I kill you? I liked it bloody, but maybe I should try something new? After all, the world was filled with humans, just waiting to die.

But when someone has lived for over hundred years, they have kind of tried it all. I have buried people alive, twisted their neck and much more. And I wasn't pale for making them beg for their life, or let them live the rest of their life in miserable, I quite enjoyed it.

You were starting to slip out of my grip and I tightened a little, still deep in thoughts.

Humans are only beautiful when they're death, but there is some work to do before, though. I usually scar them, break their bones, hit them and make them swim in their own blood. All this must of course happen while they're alive (I just believe they bleed more when they're alive), so it's a job that has to be done quickly. But when it is been done, it is truly a masterpiece. I would like to stand and watch my creation, looking at them struggle for the little piece of life they had left, wheezing after air from their broken neck… Yes, a human's death was truly a beautiful thing to witness. Too bad that humans died so quickly.

What were you doing? Were you trying to kick me and squirm out of my grip at the same time? Heh, foolish. I pressed my hand a little harder against your throat, as for saying; Hey, you don't stand a chance, so knock it off.

I looked down in the ground, while I was thinking. What to do, what to do?

I wanted you to die in unique way. After all, you were a little special and had caused me a lot of trouble. I risked being killed by Father. Killed as a damn human, and I am way too proud for that.

Maybe I should ask you? When I asked people how they wanted to die, the horror in their faces usually gave me inspiration.

I lifted my head and looked you in the eyes, and found out that my problem apparently already was solved.

I had been too lost in thoughts to notice that you had stopped moving under my touch a while ago. I frowned.

"Idiot. You're not supposed to die until after I have made you beg for you life, dammit." I growled. All I got in respond was those dead eyes that had lost all their fire.

I let go of you, and you felt forward and into my chest. I sighed annoyed and wrapped one of my arms around you, since I didn't quite liked the idea of a death one sliding down of me, like a fried egg that was splat out on a wall.

You didn't struggle. Of course you didn't struggle anymore.

I moved us around, so my back was against the wall. I sat down on the ground, leaning my back against the wall and you in my arms. I looked down at you. At your death eyes and your blood stained hair.

I smiled slightly (not something I usually do, I'm the smirking type). I tightened my grip around your waist a little and sniffed in the sweet sent of your blood in your hair. I looked at you again and brushed some hair away from your face.

You didn't shiver as before.

We stayed like that for – I don't know how long. I stayed with you, not as I tend to do. I only stay to watch my prey die, and then I leave. But I couldn't leave you. Who knew what kind of psychos would find you? (Ironic? Maybe a little).

I had closed my eyes for a while, just smelling your bloody hair and feeling the presence of your body close to mine.

Then I suddenly noticed how that warm temperature humans – and any living creature has – was fading away from you. I opened my eyes and looked at you again.

Your skin was cold as mine, but it was paler. Much more paler. It made the color of your eyes seems more outstanding, and the moonlight was shining on you, making your already pale skin seem almost white. You face were soft and emotionless. You didn't have an angry, worried or twisted-in-pain expression, which were the three expressions I had seen mostly from you. No, now your face muscles were all relaxed.

You were beautiful.

I didn't know humans looked like this after their death. I didn't know you could look like this. I pressed you closer to me, in a tight embrace.

"You look really beautiful." I whispered.

You didn't respond, of course. You were death, so only your ghost would hear me. It didn't matter. I don't think I would have said it if you were alive.

I stroke you again, and again you didn't respond, but that's okay. I know you're death.

I suddenly heard foot prints and familiar voices.

I sighed. I had to leave you now, though I didn't want to. A big part of me wanted to hold you tight into me, and claim you being mine when they found us. But of course I couldn't do that, and in the long run I would throw you away. I have seen rotten corpses before, they're disgusting. Even – if possible – more disgusting than living humans. It was sad that you wouldn't stay like you were now.

Pale, relaxed and beautiful.

Much against my will, I pushed you off me and laid you down on the ground. I stroke you on last time, before I jumped to the roof. I glanced at you over my shoulder, before I disappeared.

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**A/N:** Made this in about an hour. It was for my friend, because I felt a little sadistic :)

I don't know who the person Envy is with. When I wrote it, I actually didn't think of any particular person, just some OC. But you allowed to think that the person Envy is with are Winry, Ed, Roy, Hughes, or what else you guys might like. It's your fantasize, so you're allowed to.

I'm probably going to regret posting this, so I might delete it in a day or two.


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